


in the quiet of our safest place

by heavenlymoonbeam (vilupe)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bottom Castiel, Fluff, M/M, Mpreg, Pregnant Castiel, Top Dean, fairy!Cas, huntsman!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-05-03 16:28:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5298302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vilupe/pseuds/heavenlymoonbeam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The cabin itself was a little on the smallish side, though Dean had plans to ask Sam’s help in expanding it soon. For now it filled its purpose well in sheltering both of them from the elements and occasional wayward animal, and hopefully it would continue to serve once Cas gave birth in a couple of months.  Attached to the cabin was a small enclosure that sheltered their one horse, and, occasionally, Imp. It was surrounded by all sorts of rows of plants and stones, an intricate weave of magic and care that Dean had witnessed Cas tend to even when it was too cold for any growth to break through the frigid ground.</p><p>*<br/>Dean and Cas struggle to meet the demands of Cas's pregnancy with various bumps and hiccups along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in the quiet of our safest place

**Author's Note:**

> This was a lovely prompt that [Rebel-Cas](http://www.rebel-cas.tumblr.com) sent me on [my tumblr](http://www.heavenlymoonbeam.tumblr.com). 
> 
> I do have plans to continue this up to three parts or chapters, but it will be slow going as I work on some other stuff that is swimming around in my head. ETA: If I continue this then it will be as a series instead of another chapter.

The forest was quiet. The bright afternoon light streaming through the trees and leaving dappled patterns and designs of alternating greens, golds, and browns all along the forest floor. Dean was satisfied with his choice to wait until after midday, for the shadows cast by the slowly setting sun were plentiful, generous, and perfect for hiding his not-insignificant form in the growth.

In front of him stood his prey. Long elegant neck arched over as she ate the sparse forest grass, the doe was unsuspecting of his presence. A prime target that would provide them with plenty of food for the upcoming weeks. Between his fingers he held an arrow loosely, stepping forward with light and unhurried steps so that he did not frighten the doe. His muscles tensed and at the ready; Dean was waiting for the right moment to notch and let the arrow fly, wanting to cause the least amount of unnecessary pain. Although it was the hunters’ way to take of the land, it did not mean that Dean reveled in the process of taking a life. This was doubly true for his Cas, who would choose not to eat even an ounce of animal flesh if it were not for the half-human life growing inside of him.

Sudden rustling halted him where he stood. The doe lifted her head, ears swiveling forward as she reacted to the noise coming from the shaking underbrush. A fawn stumbled out, small and most likely younger looking than it truly is, this late in the spring. Its clumsiness startled both Dean and its mother. The doe pawed at the ground nervously and snuffled along the fawn’s back once it approached her. Dean stepped back, the small, quiet movement making enough noise to capture the doe’s attention now that she was alert and on guard. Her eyes locked with his, large and liquid black. And frustratingly, he found himself unable to bring her down now that he knew of the fawn.

His hesitance was all that she needed to nudge her fawn forward until both mother and child were sprinting away.

Dean sagged against a nearby tree, thumping his head against the rough bark and smiling wryly at his own ridiculousness. It struck too closely to his own situation, he could admit. To Cas waiting in their cabin, round with his child, strangely weakened by the changes in his body. It was a sentiment that Dean would have felt to be both needless and foolish not even a year ago, but now made him feel protective over the doe and her fawn instead.

Sliding the useless arrow back into his quiver, Dean looked up through the leaves to try and gauge how much longer he would have prime lighting for hunting. After all, he still needed to acquire some form of meat for their meal. But perhaps some game that was smaller and easier would do for today, he mused since it seemed like the shadows were lengthening and that fairly soon it would be darker than he would like.

* * *

Dean returned to the cabin just as the last stretches of light turned pink and warm as the sun sunk low in the sky. Situated in a forest clearing, the cabin was ideal for both of them for many reasons. The most important being that it was on the edge of forest that concealed the veil that separated the human village from the hallowed lands that Cas originally came from.

The cabin itself was a little on the smallish side, though Dean had plans to ask Sam’s help in expanding it soon. For now it filled its purpose well in sheltering both of them from the elements and occasional wayward animal, and hopefully it would continue to serve once Cas gave birth in a couple of months.  Attached to the cabin was a small enclosure that sheltered their one horse, and, occasionally, Imp. It was surrounded by all sorts of rows of plants and stones, an intricate weave of magic and care that Dean had witnessed Cas tend to even when it was too cold for any growth to break through the frigid ground.

As Dean crossed the white row of protective stones that ran its length around the entire clearing, he whistled a bird call. It was hunters’ habit to make alert calls whenever approaching the village, so that they would not suspect an approaching changeling or shape-stealer.

Dean had kept it up not so much for fear that Cas would suspect the truth of his person, but that he would not be startled by Dean’s presence and ruin complicated spell work or tonics.  

He grinned at the movement of Imp’s dark shape near the entrance to the cabin. She had rolled onto her belly in response to his call, and Dean quickly tossed the hound a scrap of meat from his hunt to reward her for her diligence. Sniffing at the meat, she barked sharply at him before snatching his offering and slinking away. It was a well-deserved rebuff for leaving her home while he had gone hunting, so he tried not to take offense at her snub.

He walked into the cabin and cast his gaze around until he caught sight of Cas at the table near the largest window, seeking the natural light despite the wide array of candles that were lit all around the space. Cas had neat bundles of herbs around him, some of earthen nature and others strange and still foreign to Dean who had known this forest since childhood. He was singing quietly, the hard of thwack of pestle hitting mortar ringing loudly in the room.

Dean adjusted his grip on the pheasant he had killed, wanting to clear his throat, speak, or do anything to gain Cas’s attention. Yet, he knew better than to interrupt the soft song spilling from those lips, lest he ruin the charm that Cas was weaving with his nimble fingers.

It never ceased to amaze him how Cas would carry on creating works of luck and kindness for humans who still did not approve of his presence in their village. Their distrust was such that it led to them living in this hidden cabin in the first place. Though the greedy villagers did not mind paying a pretty penny for spells and trinkets that were fairy blessed.

Dean set the pheasant onto the counter used for food preparation and proceeded to their bedroom to shuck off his hunting gear. By the time he had finished ridding himself of his sweat soaked tunic and leathers and had washed the grime from his face and hands with the water he had pumped earlier this morning, the singing had stopped, signaling the completion of whatever charm Cas had been working on.

In the sudden silence, he shifted, listening to the Cas’s subtle breaths as he moved between the rooms. Dean reached for a clean tunic but a hand lightly coming to rest between his shoulder blades made him stop.

Cas’s palms slid over his shoulders and down his arms before a quick kiss was pressed to his neck. The solid curve of his bump brushed against Dean’s spine, and Dean grinned at the image in his head of Cas, as tall as any man except for Sam, leaning over on his toes in order to kiss Dean due to his baby bump being in the way.

Dropping the tunic without care, Dean turned around and captured Cas’s lips with his own. Although he intended for it to be chaste and sweet, they both automatically curved towards each other and deepened it on instinct. Trying not to completely cause Cas discomfort by crushing his stomach, Dean gently cradled his sides as he sucked on Cas’s lower lip until the fairy was humming in pleasure.  

Pulling away, Dean brushed his lips on tip of Cas’s nose in a soft kiss and took a step back. “Hey, you,” he murmured.

“Welcome back, Dean.” Cas breathed softly, eyes glazed and swaying towards Dean as if wordlessly asking for another kiss. He blinked rapidly. Cas’s eyes cleared up and turned soft and loving in the candle light, and he continued, “I am sorry for not greeting you properly earlier.”

Dean slid his hands around and up Cas’s back, so that he was thumbing the soft dip where Cas’s jaw met his small, pointed ears. Smiling softly and wanting nothing more than to kiss Cas until his eyes were clouded with desire once more, Dean took a breath to calm himself. “It’s alright. You looked like you had a busy time of it today.”

“Still I would have very much liked to greet you,” Cas murmured. His eyes sweeping over his shoulders and fingers spread flat against the expanse of Dean’s chest.

“And what kind of greeting would I have gotten?”

Cas’s lips curved upwards in an impish grin. His bright eyes crinkling in mischief as he looked up and stared into Dean’s own. “Perhaps a kiss,” he said.

“Perhaps?” Dean asked, brushing his lips once more against the tip of Cas’s nose before pulling away to watch Cas’s fluttering eyelashes and pinked cheeks. Dean did not think he would ever get tired of how responsive Cas was.

Blinking away the renewed stirrings of his want, Cas continued in a lilting, teasing tone. “Or perhaps something more.”  

“Is that so, sweetling?” Dean smiled.  

Cas nodded seriously, his pale skin lighting up in flecks color. The brilliant freckles and spots that spiraled out from his shoulders littered his body in a whispering tease of his fairy nature. They blinked pinks and reds and the occasional deep, breathtaking purple— a mix of the dark, passionate blue that Dean has only seen during their most intimate moments and the affectionate, loving pink currently taking up most of his skin. A very real reflection of Cas’s emotional state, Cas had mentioned that he spent many years in his youth controlling them into the calm pale blues and greens that were the norm.

Dean would not deny that he was possessively pleased at the way he could completely derail Cas’s concentration in order to see the full spectrum of colors.  

Pressing his fingers against one burst of freckles on Cas’s neck, Dean slid away and took a step back. He grabbed the forgotten tunic and tugged it on.

When Cas reached up to comb his fingers through Dean’s newly fluffed up hair, he wobbled precariously. His face paled as he lost his footing.

Beyond concerned, Dean steadied him by firmly gripping his hip and back.  Guiding him to the bed behind them, Dean held Cas’s hands until he was safely seated and no longer as pale as the spirits hidden within the forest.

Cas sensed his worry and tugged Dean down beside him, reaching out to smooth the lines that crossed his brow. The playfulness between them was lost in that one instant. Worried tension radiating from Dean instead to fill the small space of their bedroom. “I am perfectly fine, Dean,” Cas huffed, unable to repress the annoyance that flashed across his features before Dean saw it.

Dean knew that treating Cas like finely made pottery was not actually helping Cas’s condition. Still, he was lost to his own concerns. Cas, beautiful and foreign to him, was already so significantly weakened being this far from the magic deep within the forest that even before the pregnancy, he had kept to his human form most days. Now that he was carrying a half-human, half-fairy child, the drain on his magic resulted in a steadily growing loss of strength and appetite that was driving Dean mad with anxiety.

Cas held his gaze as he forced a change in topic. “Did your trip into the depths of the forest prove fruitful?”

A rueful smile crept its way onto Dean’s lips, grudgingly given. He knew that Cas was poking fun at him, for he had promised to bring back deer and yet nowhere in sight was buck nor doe. He slid his eyes towards the door opening into the front room. “I caught a pheasant,” Dean said.

“Oh, how lovely,” Cas deadpanned. He wrinkled his nose, skin swirling in a burst of green.

Nudging him with his shoulder, Dean chuckled, already feeling the tension in his shoulders leaving at Cas’s gentle teasing. “And would venison be better?” He asked, shaking his head. “I know you don’t enjoy eating meat, but Missouri insisted that a balance between your normal meals and human meats and fats would be best for both you and the baby during your pregnancy.”

It was Cas’s turn to tense; the subject of food and his loss of appetite something that was too connected to the strain on his person for it to be taken lightly, especially considering he had been trying to turn Dean away from such a subject. “I have persisted this far without it, Dean. What is four or so more months?”

“And you have been weakened and irritable throughout. Missouri is the most learned woman in the village, she would not play us false.”

“Missouri is not a fairy,” Cas pouted, turning away. Around them the air stirred, candle light flickering as the greens rippled yellow on pale skin and the air around them twinkled with dust from Cas’s magic.  

Dean bit his lip and forced himself not to comment on the needlessly wasteful show of power. Combing through the hair at the base of Cas’s neck, he waited until the motions soothed Cas’s frazzled nerves and his fairy moved to look at him once again. “Please,” Dean entreated. “You know that I would never ask this of you unless I thought it was necessary. It pains me to see what you are going through and do nothing. Just try to eat some of tonight’s pheasant.”

“Very well,” he sighed, leaning into Dean’s warmth. “I do feel a bit hungry now that we have been talking about it. Perhaps your people’s conventional wisdom will prove true and this will assist with settling my stomach?”

He did not want to give voice to the suspicions that Cas would need more than one meal of meat and human nourishment to settle his stomach. It was already going against his instincts to plead with Cas to do something he was discomforted by. If Cas were to continue his protests, Dean did not think he had it in him to resist.

He got up slowly and held out his hand so that Cas could grip it while he rocked forward and onto his feet. Once he was sure that Cas was fine, Dean led the way into the front room. Knowing that it would be too much to ask Cas to prepare and cook the pheasant after their conversation, Dean silently gestured for Cas to continue working on the scattered charms and simple tonics that he had left strewn about their wooden table.

Cas quickly snagged Dean’s hand before he crossed the room towards the fireplace. He pressed a soft, grateful kiss to the tips of Dean’s fingers, making them tremble at his worshipful grip.

Dean felt heat stir within his blood, warming his face and ears. At the look in Cas’s eye, he hurriedly tugged his hand away and turned to the hearth. He was unable to fathom, even after these last two years, how such a creature could hold so much adoration for him.

While building a hot enough flame was simple enough, it did take Dean longer than he was willing to admit to set up the materials that he needed to strip the pheasant and prepare the meal. Normally this was Cas’s task since Dean would be too tired from hunting and selling meats in the village to participate much in cooking their meals, though he always helped Cas with the evening chores afterward. Ever since it had been recently difficult for Cas to bend low in front of the flames, Dean had been gradually volunteering to do the task himself. With how stubborn Cas could be, Dean had actually cooked their meals far fewer times than he thought he would when he first volunteered earlier in the month.

After cleaning the bird, Dean arranged the pheasant in the heavy iron oven pot with carrots and potatoes and other vegetables that Cas had pulled from their garden. He ensured that the hearth flames were low enough that to prevent burning and hung the pot over the middle of the fire.

Dean made sure to clean his hands once more before sitting across from Cas at the table.

Once again, Dean could hear Cas singing lowly. The high, lilting song was in a tongue as foreign to Dean as the source of Cas’s magic. It drifted over him in his seat, sending curious tingles through the fine hairs on his neck and catching his breath in his throat. Cas’s face was relaxed, peaceful. His freckles a gentle, clear blue. And it was no trouble for Dean to wait and watch him at his craft, weaving the magical elements of the herbs and earth together with his song.  

Cas finished his song and burned the end of the charm he had braided. Blinking slowly up at Dean as regained the spell lifted and he regained clarity in his eyes, he asked, “How much longer, Dean?”

“Not much more.” Dean rasped, still slightly spell bound by the sight of Cas. “You’ve been singing pretty for a while now.”

Cas’s eyes crinkled in that way that meant he knew just how much Dean liked watching him, but he broke their lengthening stare in order to carefully box the villagers’ charms that he had been working on.

Dean took that as a sign that Cas was done for the day, and together they cleared off the wooden table. Each of the herbs was separately wrapped in tight bundles of burlap, intricately carved wooden and stone charms hanging from the hempen rope that they used the tie them. These were handmade by Cas, himself, and ensured their freshness and protection from any wandering creature that was seeking fragrant greens to nibble on. As Cas took the bundles of supplies and waddled over to place them within his trunk, Dean walked over to finally check to see if their dinner was fully cooked.

Bringing bowls filled with food to the table, Dean waited for Cas to return to his seat before eating. He used the time to tell Cas about the fawn he had seen stumbling towards its mama and then his own inability to harm such a sweet pair. Always overly pleased with any show of his kindness, Cas’s eyes brightened momentarily until he finally put a spoonful of the bird into his mouth.

The reaction was instantaneous. Cas turned an alarming shade of green, and it being a shade completely divorced from the fairy markings on his skin, Dean rushed to grab one of the pails kept by the small indoor water pump inset into the food counter. He feared that poor Cas was going to be sick at the taste of the meat, but thankfully by the time he was crouched low in front of him, holding the pail between Cas’s knees and gently stroking Cas’s side, the worst of it seemed to have passed and the sickening color was slowly leaving Cas’s face.

Dean sat on the floor in front of Cas once he was certain that Cas wasn’t going to heave or worse. His relief must have been clear upon his face, for Cas sent him a pained look and fidgeted restlessly with the hem of his long, loose tunic, the soft cream fabric wrinkling messily under the anxious treatment of his fingers.

“Apologies, Dean,” he croaked, voice hoarse and eyes watery.

Dean rushed to his knees, cradling Cas’s head between his hands. His thumbs swept over the dark skin beneath Cas’s eyes. “No, sweetling,” he reassured. “I’m sorry for forcing you to bend to our wisdom when, of course, your body would know and ask for what it needs from you.”

In that moment his stomach curdled, well-known uselessness overwhelming him. Pressing a kiss to Cas’s forehead, Dean took a moment to just burry his nose into the hair at Cas’s temple and breath in his scent. “We can’t do this anymore, Cas,” he pleaded, eyes shut tightly against the fine hairs stirring at the puff of Dean’s breath. “There must be something I could get for you? Something to ease this? Or at least something that you actually want to eat?”  

Cas shifted in his arms, taking a deep, fortifying breath. “I do not know if it will “ease this,” as you say, but there is one thing that I currently desire,” he said, curling his fingers tightly into Dean’s tunic and pushing so that he could look into Dean’s eyes. “It—It is very far into the forest, Dean.” A deep flush of shame flooded his cheeks at the admission.  

“Please, Cas,” he said. “Anything you want.”  His voice was deep with feeling at the sight of Cas, dark sooty lashes wet and fluttering, not a single color in sight on the pale expanse of his skin except for those redden cheeks. He cleared his throat and gruffly added, “You know that.”

“Moon’s Heart Nectar,” Cas whispered between them.

At Dean’s look of confusion, he explained, “The nectar of the Moon’s Heart flower?”

“The red flowers that grow on the great trees?” Dean asked. He imagined the curling red blooms, heavy with sweet nectar. He was only aware of what they looked like because the trees that housed them were the very same trees where he had run into Cas for the very first time, flushed and roused from a particularly difficult hunt. The great trees were very deep into the forest, indeed. And they straddled the line between the human world and the shallow edges of the ineffable curiosities from behind the veil.

For the length of it, it would be quite a journey, but not impossible—not something that was beyond him for the sake of Cas.

Cas nodded, warily looking up at Dean through his lashes now that it was beginning to dawn on Dean just what he was asking for.  “Tomorrow night there will be a full moon and the petals will swell with nectar. I crave it’s sweetness so much.”

Dean made a brief calculation of the distance in his mind, conceding that even on foot it would be doable. “To make it that far by the full moon I will have to leave tonight,” he said, rocking back on his heels and running his palms along Cas’s thighs.

Cas gripped his fingers tightly; his face a mixture of reluctance and joy as he shook his head and chewed his lower lip. Color was returning to the dappled spots upon him, swirling in perplexing shade patterns that Dean had difficulties getting a read on. “Will you really go and get it for me?” His normally smooth voice trembling high with energy.

“Traveling so far for a silly craving,” Cas persisted and squeezed Dean’s hands once more. “Dean, no. I’m sure that it will pass.”

“It is no burden,” Dean assured. “If you want it so much, then you must need it, no matter how silly you think the craving is.”

Under the steady reassurance of Dean’s willingness and love, Cas bloomed into color, thoroughly glowing in happiness. He beamed at Dean. His fingers loosening their grip until he was merely stroking the sun-hardened skin of Dean’s knuckles and holding Dean captive with his steady gaze.

Dean shifted, knowing that what Cas wanted of him was time sensitive, and rose to his feet to make his way into the bedroom. Cas understood his wordless signal and followed him. They worked together to repack Dean’s supplies and find new hunting leathers. Cas softly uttering words of praise and affection in Deans ears as he passed off items with lingering touches and glances.

It riled Dean’s blood and sent his toes curling in his boots, but he did not dare ask for Cas to stop. Even if all he wanted to do was toss his pregnant husband onto their sheets and strip that cream shift straight off of him, Dean understood that Cas needed to show his love just as much as he did.

And if it was selfish to revel in the eager and excited passes Cas made without taking him up on the offer, then Dean allowed himself to bask in the attention. After all, he would be on foot for nearly a day’s worth of journeying to and from the center of the forest and would likely tumble into bed without even the energy for a kiss upon his return.

As he gathered his items at the door, it was the very thought of being too overcome with exhaustion to kiss Cas when he returned that had him gathering Cas into his arms and roughly taking his mouth in an thorough kiss.  

Responsive as he was, Cas melted into Dean’s arms. His back bowed under the wet pressure of Dean’s mouth on his, and Cas ran his fingers through the short strands of Dean’s hair, pulling rumbling, needy noises from the back of Dean’s throat.

They traded several of those kisses, lingering and open, before Cas pulled back reluctantly and handed Dean the thick cloak that he preferred for the rare night-time excursions.

“Take Imp with you if you decide to head into the village to deliver those charms. That wild dog has nothing better to do than lurk around the stable otherwise,” Dean said, hesitating at the threshold of their cabin. “And be sure to take the horse and wagon since I am going on foot.”

“I figured as much when you decided to leave this instant, but surely it would be better if you took the horse instead?”

“As much as I know you love walking, sweetling, I would feel much better if I knew you weren’t overexerting yourself,” Dean said, stepping forward into the night before turning back to Cas who was lingering at the open door.  

“Oh, and visit Sam and rest before coming back. I don’t want you making the return trip when you are tired and worn,” Dean said. 

With lazy affection in his eyes, Cas let out an huff filled with mock-irritation and pushed him towards the forest trail. “I am with child, not a child myself, Dean Winchester. Now go bring me back food like a good hunter and mate.”

“Yes, dear,” Dean laughed, stealing one last kiss before once again disappearing into the trees with light footsteps.


End file.
